Zeliph tried to mount him, but the stallion sidled away, all the time keeping Tashi beneath him,
out of reach. Tashi tried not to flinch as the hooves stamped around her. Desperately, Zeliph
threw himself in the saddle. Thunder bolted clear of Tashi, then bucked until he had unseated
the Horse Follower. Job done, he trotted back to stand over the girl as if nothing had interrupted
them. Outraged to be humiliated before his tribe, Zeliph approached from behind but Thunder
was wise to his game. The headman
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received a sharp kick to the stomach and ended doubled up, clawing at the sandy earth in agony.
Zaradan clapped his hands. "Enough! It is clear the stallion prefers the girl over Zeliph. They stay together."
Zeliph hobbled over and spat at Tashi. "You favor the claims of a bare-legged girl over a
tribesman? Are you mad?"
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Zaradan's face became stony, his dark eyes flashed. The men murmured at Zeliph's audacity.
"Take that back or I'll cast you from the tribe! No man questions my judgment as long as I am
Umni." He reached for a curved knife tucked in his sash.
Zeliph knew he'd gone too far. He touched his lips and then his heart. "I repent of my rash
words."
The Umni of the Horse Followers released the knife hilt. "Then they were not heard," Zaradan said formally, touching his ears then heart.
Zeliph kicked the flap to his tent aside and disappeared without looking back at his lost prize.
"Come, child. You will not be welcome here any longer," Zaradan said to Tashi, gesturing to
Zeliph's household.
Tashi got up and patted Thunder on the neck. "Thank you," she whispered.
"My tent is half a day's ride away." Zaradan frowned at her appearance, bare legs showing
beneath the shirt. "Do your people really choose to dress like that? It is not suitable for the
desert."
"No, sir. I was taken from my bed," she added defensively.
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"If you are to be my grandson's wife, I cannot allow you to ride in this fashion.
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You there!" He pointed to one of the men. "Fetch the girl a robe."
The man hurried off and returned with an old grey scrap of cloth.
"I see Zeliph is feeling generous," Zaradan said ironically, wrapping it around her. "He's headman here and I'm afraid you have just made yourself very unpopular."
Tashi wrinkled her nose. "I'm used to it."
"Come then. Let's ride."
Zaradan's tent was larger than Zeliph's, but like his it had separate quarters for men and women.
The interior was brightly decked with rugs and
hangings all with the horse motif. It was cool in the tent, thanks to the kilted-up sides that
allowed a breeze to keep the air moving. Zaradan left Tashi in the care of his son's wife, a shy
woman who responded to her attempts to make conversation only with nods and nervous
laughter. Two big-eyed girls hung at the entrance, staring transfixed at the strange-looking
foreigner. The woman offered her a fine turquoise tunic, decorated with seed pearl, and loose-
fitting trousers. She then brushed Tashi's hair for her, murmuring to her children as she admired
the color.
Zaradan invited Tashi to dine with him that evening, an invitation she accepted with trepidation.
She had realized that he must be some kind of king
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among his people as Ramil's mother had been referred to as a princess. Yet it appeared that the
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notion of kingship here was different from any she knew; what she had witnessed at Zeliph's
tent suggested Zaradan was more like a chief of a series of subordinate tribes with fluctuating
loyalties. Ramil had never mentioned his grandfather, so she did not know how Zaradan would
regard her presence here.
When she entered the men's side of the tent, she found the Umni was not alone. A man in his
middle years, of similar build and coloring, was reclining at the table at his side. Both rose as she
approached.
"This is my son, Resphir," Zaradan said. "And this girl appears to be Ramil's betrothed, though what her true name is we have not yet established."
"Ramil calls me Tashi," she replied, bowing Crescent-style to the two men.
Zaradan waved her to a cushion and offered her a plate of meat and couscous. She helped
herself to a small portion, not feeling very hungry.
She sipped nervously on a tiny cup of mint tea.
"Where is Zarai's boy?" Resphir asked her bluntly before she could even swallow a mouthful of food.
"He's . . . I'm not sure. He was captured, I think, about three days' ride south from where the
road divides to Tigral." An idea occurred to her. "Can you help him? Do you know where they
would have taken him?"
"The slave market in the city, that's plain enough," said Resphir with a frown.
Tashi had the impression he did not approve of her. "I told you, Father, that you
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should never have allowed Zarai to marry that Gerfalian. Her child in slavery--it is an insult to
the whole family."
Tashi felt a rush of annoyance. It was easy for him to criticize when he hadn't been the one
fighting for his life. "It was hardly Ram's fault!" she protested. "I don't know how many came for us, but there were three alone after the other woman and me, so they must have come in force.
No man, not even Resphir of the Horse Followers, could've escaped them."
Zaradan held up a finger to stop her tirade. "But you have not yet told us how you avoided the
indignities of being auctioned in Tigral."
Tashi pushed her plate away. Once again she was being made to justify her choices. "I jumped in
the river."
"I do not believe you could have done that and survived," said Resphir dismissively.
"Would you like to see the scars?" Tashi asked. "Because the river was not kind to me and left plenty of marks." Tired of being doubted and scorned, she turned to Zaradan. "I don't know
what you think I am doing here, sir, but for some reason our paths have crossed. You have a
choice: either to believe me and aid me in my mission, or thwart me and make Fergox
Spearthrower very happy."
Zaradan crumbled up a piece of bread as if he had not heard her. His face was impassive.
"All right," she said in exasperation, "even better, hand me over to the warlord. He'll either make me his fifth wife or burn me at the stake, but never mind that! You'll be able to disappear
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into your desert knowing
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that you did not lift a finger to save the land your daughter loved, nor the woman Zarai's son
chose."
"You are passionate, little one," said Zaradan calmly.
Tashi felt like throwing her plate at him. "I think you would be too if you had been been
kidnapped, shot at, beaten, accused of witchcraft, and I don't know what else for the last few
months."
"And you've fallen in love."
This brought her up short.
He smiled. "1 would have made a sorry use of my years on this earth if I could not tell when a
young girl is in love. It always gives them a certain sparkle." He fluttered his fingers in the air.
"So what do you want from us, O
lover of Ramil?"
His tone made her outburst seem childish.
"I ... I want to take a ship home. And I want you to help Ramil because I cannot," Tashi said, feeling her cheeks burn. Zaradan made her feel all the inadequacy of her own sixteen years